Morning Tea
by Lola Hard
Summary: *Jazz/Maggie; postmovie 2007* Jazz asked Maggie a question over a cup of tea. What will be her answer? One-shot continued!
1. Chapter 1

I've been sort of having a writer's block recently, and hopefully this little drabble will help me get back on track. This scene just popped up in my head and wouldn't go away, so I had to write it down :)  
**  
Title:** "Morning Tea"  
**Author:** Lola Hard  
**Beta:** Kristie  
**Pairing:** Jazz/Maggie  
**Rating:** PG-13 (for one not-really-that-bad curse word)  
**Summary:** Maggie is enjoying her tea, and Jazz is asking questions.  
**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to their copyright owners. No money gained, only fun.

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_**Morning Tea**_

Maggie loved tea. Hot, green, with wonderful smelling herbs. It helped her relax and "feel the Force", as Glenn would say. Especially in the morning. Even more especially after doing a damn good job at decoding the signal from outer space that Optimus had received the previous night. They had woken her up early today, and she came all the way to the Autobot base, and worked on the signal for three hours in a row without lifting her head, and she cracked the code, and she was going to have the heavenly bliss of drinking a cup of green tea that was being prepared on her table.

She was humming a random tune waiting for the "Magic Liquid of Inner Strength Integration" to be ready to drink when a hip-hop beat came from the corridor outside of her room. That could only be either Bumblebee, or Jazz.

"Yo, Maggie," a silver head peeked into the opened door, the usually black visor changing its color to blue, green, yellow and orange in rhythm of the music.

"Hey Jazz," the girl smiled at him cheerfully. "Come in."

"Enjoyin' yer tea, huh," he half asked half stated, practically dancing into the room to the deep sound of drum'n'bass. Upon entering, he lowered the volume of his stereo system to a comfortable level. During their not very long acquaintance she'd learned that, even though he was a handful of a bot, he respected other people's personal space and never allowed himself to ravage their audio receiving body parts while in close proximity to them.

"Mm-hmm," she purred happily, savoring the wonderful smell that was coming from her cup, which made Jazz chuckle.

The bot came closer and squatted near her table. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"

"Ask away," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Tell me about sex."

"What?" She looked at him incredulously, forgetting about her tea. She didn't see _that_ coming. As if to make the moment even more dramatic, the bot cut the music off, creating a ringing silence in the room.

"Tell me about sex," he repeated patiently, each word as clear as day.

"Uh…" There was a long period of confusion in her brain. "What for?"

"I volunteered to discover the similarities and differences between Earth sex and Cybertronian interfacing," he delivered without slipping and gave her an evil smirk. It was impossible to tell for sure if he was joking or being serious.

"Wow, that sounds pretty serious," she chuckled, lifting one eyebrow. "Anyway, I'm sure the World Wide Web would give you all the needed information, with pictures and videos." She briefly wondered if there were any pictures and videos of "Cybertronian interfacing" in existence, but quickly dismissed the thought, as it was threatening to make her space out, and it was not the right time or place for that.

"I'd like ta hear it from a reliable source, so ta speak," he bowed his head slightly, apparently meaning Maggie as a "reliable source" and adding a smile.

"Oh...? Well, I don't think it's a good idea," she shook her head with a laugh. Sam and Mikaela had told her that the Autobots were indeed strange creatures and that they often chose strange topics for conversation, but it was only now that Maggie was starting to feel the full extent of that warning. With an inward snort she made a small sip from her cup.

"I think it is," Jazz insisted. "Hey, it's not like yer a virgin."

Maggie choked on the tea, momentarily creating a mess on the table. "Huh?" She glared at him. She really didn't like talking about sex if it involved discussing her personal life. Especially with males. Even more especially with male alien robots the size of a three-story building. "And how would you know that? Is it your scanning 'I see all your insides' technology or something?" The defensive tone could be clearly heard in her voice. She grabbed a napkin with her free hand and started wiping the spilt liquid from the table.

"Nah, that's Doc's tactics, I didn't do anythin' like that," Jazz shook his head and held his hands up claiming his innocence. "It's jus that yer a beautiful woman an' I bet ya have a bunch o' males out there offerin' ya some… cuddlin'," one side of the saboteur's mouth curled up into a lopsided grin.

She froze with a cup of tea in one hand and a now wet napkin in the other. Did he just call her beautiful? That was probably his way of showing respect to the physical appearance of the Earth's inhabitants in general and of his human friends in particular. Well, that was cute. Or did he really think she was beautiful? That would be an interesting concept. A really interesting one. "And what makes you think I'd actually accept any of those offers?" she asked curiously, putting the napkin away.

"Well," the mech started. "Yer intelligent an' open, ya love life an' people, ya dig adventures an' everythin' new – _and_," he stressed the word, a full smile now playing on his face, "I'll be slagged if ya don't use yer 'come an' get me' charms. You were born with that, trust me, it's all there."

That actually made her laugh. No, she thought in disbelief, Jazz was a particular something among other Autobots, and she now knew what the others missed while he'd been offline. "Why, thanks for the… compliment, I guess… Yeah, I think I'll take that as a compliment," she nodded, still smirking, and then added, "But it really depends on who is making the offer."

"I see… So…" He looked down at her thoughtfully, head tilted slightly to one side.

"So?" Maggie lifted her eyebrows expectantly, taking another sip from her cup and waiting for him to continue.

"May I cuddle ya?"

Shit, the tea was simply _bound_ to go the wrong way this morning.

_**The End **_

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_**A/N:**__ Thank you for reading. Reviews, comments and constructive criticism are welcome :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**__I'd like to thank everyone who read the first installment and left their reviews – I love you guys, you are fabulous, you know that, right:) So many people asked for continuation – and there are so few Jazz/Maggie stories out there on the net – that I just couldn't leave it there, and decided to write on. But as it is, the idea of a sequel grew into a full multi-chapter story (in perspective). As much as I love PWP's (and sometimes even write them getting all red as a tomato), this particular story somehow calls to me as a thoughtful search of how it really could transpire, despite the "brave" start. Hope you don't mind :) Also, I hope you'll help me with your support, suggestions and constructive criticism. Special thanks/hugs/kisses to my wonderful beta Ionicaq (aka Kristie) :squee: Anyway, enough talk, let's read some fic! _

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"_**Morning Tea" – Chapter 2**_

Maggie stared dumbly at the droplets of green tea that were sliding down the silver armor of Jazz's broad chest. "Umm…" she said intelligently, and then looked back up to the saboteur's curious face. "It's not like I don't appreciate the offer, Jazz, but… Geez, you gotta be kidding," she shook her head again with an amused laugh.

"Nope, I'm askin' ya for a cuddle," Jazz answered with a smile.

"It's impossible," she lifted her hands up to make her point. It was funny how an innocent word like 'cuddle' had suddenly taken an entirely different meaning. Talk about the wonders of psychology. "The- the sheer mechanics of it-" A scientist in her was raising his head, drawing mental schemes, but crumpling the imaginary sketches and tossing them into a nonexistent trash bin.

Jazz was a personification of calm. "We can figure it out," he said, unabated. "'Adjusting' is ma' middle name."

"You don't have a middle name, Jazz," she gave a half eye-roll with a weary sigh.

"It's a figure o' speech," he nodded to the side.

"Yeah, right…" Maggie mumbled. She took another napkin and started to clean Jazz's armor.

The mech followed her every move with his optics; she could practically feel his gaze on herself. "So, yer answer is…?"

"Hey, give a girl a break here, will you?" She shut him out defensively, wiping the liquid away.

"Well, at least ya didn't say 'no'," he pointed out with a small smile.

"Well, I didn't say 'yes', either," Maggie reasoned, just as she heard a strange humming/hissing under her palms. "What's that sound?" she asked looking up in worry, afraid that the moisture had somehow damaged Jazz's delicate and sophisticated circuitry.

"That's ma' coolin' system… It's gettin' a bit hot in here," he purred, grinning down at her.

She gaped up at him, unable to form a reply right away, with a sudden feeling of being on the receiving end of a cruel joke. His intent stare, even if obscured by the visor, wasn't exactly helping her discomfort. He was pushy, he was oblivious, he was smug, and he seemed to not listen to anything she was saying. Maggie opened her mouth, and had to struggle with her voice to speak. "…are you doing this on _purpose_?"

"Doin' what on purpose?" Jazz asked in confusion.

"…_this_," she made a general gesture, indicating the entire situation. "Okay, I'll rephrase it. What's your motivation?"

He inclined his head to the side. "Do I need a motivation ta talk to a beautiful female?"

There they were again. Back to where it all had started: staring at each other – a smirking mech and a confused human girl. Maggie didn't know what to say. The worst thing was that behind all the posing and smiling Jazz could be as unreadable as a blank sheet of paper – like right now. How could she figure out what he wanted if she didn't know what was happening behind that visor of his? He could be joking, he could be friendly-flirting, he could be making advances at her, and he could be just plain mocking her. She could put up with the first three options – well, theoretically – but she wouldn't like to be the target of taunting.

Jazz's smirk faded a little, taking a softer curve; one of his hands reached out slowly, and a tip of his finger touched Maggie's cheek, carefully, lightly, as if it wasn't a digit belonging to a huge creature made of steel.

She froze.

The metal was surprisingly warm, and didn't seem sharp or hard at all. The finger caressed Maggie's skin gently and traced her jaw line, stopping under her chin, barely there, but somehow even more tangible than if it had been pressed firmly.

"Think 'bout it, baby. Take yer time," he murmured softly, his voice low and velvety. Withdrawing his hand, he got up in one fluent motion and left the room, giving Maggie one last glance before disappearing out the door.

She was speechless.

And flustered.

It was embarrassing.

x-x-x

The next morning found Maggie at the Autobot base sitting in her computer chair with her legs resting on top of the table and one of her hands cradling her aching head. Staring emotionlessly at yet another Cybertronian coded encryption that refused to get cracked, she wanted nothing more than to lie down somewhere, curl into a little ball and just die peacefully. That would surely relieve her from the necessity of_thinking_.

She hadn't gotten much sleep that night. She had a freaky and downright scary dream of Megatron waking up at the Hoover Dam pissed off as hell and making her his pet slave, to Frenzy's utter delight. Fortunately, she woke up in cold sweat before things got really ugly. However, if it wasn't bad enough, she couldn't stop thinking of Jazz's visit to her workroom the previous morning. It felt pretty much like someone had infected her brain with a virus that plagued her mind with strange thoughts, depriving her of the much needed rest.

Okay, so she was the object of an interest of a particularly cocky, mischievous robot (thank God, it was a relatively harmless Autobot, not some cranky Decepticon with a delusion of grandeur and epic plans of conquering the Universe). So what? Ah, that's where it all went so wrong – from the very start. This was crazy, and impossible, and… and even if she _did_ return the- the _feeling_, or whatever it was, where would they go from there? It wasn't like a robot and a human could have some kind of romantic relationship. But then again, she'd always thought of herself like of a person who valued the emotional aspect of love, and not the physical one… Of course, physical intimacy was a very important part of relationship, but it wasn't the alpha and omega of it; the union of minds and souls was far more meaningful… But then it would mean that in this particular situation she was betraying her own principles by labeling the whole issue unacceptable, wouldn't it? But honestly, who could blame her for that? She bitterly realized that many people could state that feelings were more important to them than sex – but that's only because they never got a huge robot as their not-so-secret 'admirer.'

Maggie chuckled sadly at the idea, staring into space wearily and chewing at her pencil.

"Now,_those_ 're the legs ta die for," a familiar velvety voice purred from the door, and she jumped in her chair at the sudden intrusion into the calm silence of her workroom.

She hastily tried to put her long lower limbs down from the table, tangling in the stiletto heels of her shoes. With an absolute horror she felt the chair shudder underneath her, and heard a distinct popping sound of one of its wheels breaking. A short motionless moment of zero gravity and shaky balance gave her enough time to let out a pitiful frightened whimper and see her life flash before her eyes – before the ruined construction with her on top started to topple back…

Maggie's high-pitched miserable 'eep' was cut short when the fall suddenly stopped before she could hit the floor. She opened her tightly squeezed eyes carefully and found herself staring upside down into Jazz's black visor only inches from her face.

After a second of an awkward silence a soft mechanical whirring came from somewhere inside the Autobot as he inclined his silver head slightly to one side and let a sly smile creep up on his face. "I'm _that_ drop dead gorgeous, mmm?" he rumbled quietly.

She was damn sure she hadn't blushed like that since she was fifteen. The fact that her short skirt was revealing more than would be appropriate only added to her embarrassment.

"Morning, Jazz," she mumbled, not so gracefully trying to get out of the chair and feel the steady ground under her feet. After several struggling attempts she finally stood up, righting her clothes and hair and giving Jazz an almost hostile glare. If he laughed – if he_only_ laughed! – she'd…

"Nice skirt," he complimented, smiling down at her and leaving her speechless for a moment.

"Uh… thanks?" she offered awkwardly tucking one blond strand behind her ear.

Jazz wordlessly rolled the spare computer chair towards Maggie and motioned for her to sit. Having no other options or places to sit left, she complied, placing an elbow on the table and resting her poor head in her hand again as she watched the Autobot getting down into a squat beside her.

"So," he started, and Maggie tensed instantly. The experience taught her to expect _anything_ from Jazz, especially after he said 'so.' "How was yer day?" he asked conversationally, to the girl's relief.

"Fine… I guess," she flashed him a weak smile that disappeared the moment it was formed. For some reason she couldn't look into his visor for more than two seconds. She felt small in comparison to Jazz, and at that moment, with him sitting so close, it was like she was cornered, though she would never admit that even under torture.

"Don' sound fine ta me," he chuckled. "Didja sleep well?"

"Not really," she confessed, rubbing her temples. At the curious tilt of his head she added, "Nightmares."

"Hmm… What's with yer head?" Jazz asked, reaching a finger towards her carefully.

Maggie flinched involuntarily. "Uh… a headache."

Jazz kept silent for several seconds, looking at her strangely. "Okay," he suddenly said lifting his hands up, finality in his tone. "It was nice ta talk to ya, but I'd better go." He got up and moved to the exit not waiting for her reaction.

"What? Why?" Maggie was shocked. She didn't like the way he said that. It didn't sound right. Did she offend him somehow? "Did I- did I say something wrong?"

"No, but…" Jazz stopped in the middle of the room, half-turned to the girl, and finally looked at her. "I'm embarrassin' ya, Maggie. I don't wanna make yer day worse than it already is. It's bad enough ya have a headache."

"What? You're not embarrassing me, why would you think that?" She allowed herself a short laugh, but it came out nervous and half-hearted, as if to prove the saboteur's point.

Jazz sighed and came close to Maggie again, crouching in front of her. "Look, I didn't come here for yer answer, okay?" He said softly. "Ya don't hafta get all stiff when I'm in the same room with ya, Meg. I like yer company, an' I consider you ma' friend, no matter what." He paused for another sigh. "It ain't an easy question I asked ya yesterday. I won't rush ya."

She stared up at him as if she was seeing him for the first time. Not trusting her voice, she only nodded slightly in reply.

"Take a day off an' get some sleep. Optimus can wait," Jazz said in an authoritative voice, and despite the momentary reflex to protest Maggie suddenly realized how tired she was. It was strangely moving to have someone care and make such a decision for her.

The girl nodded once more, and the Autobot straightened up again and turned to leave. "Jazz?" She called out to him, stopping him on the threshold and making him look at her with attention. "Thanks… for catching the chair," she said quietly.

The smile that lit up his face was pure warmth, with a hint of playfulness. "Anytime, babe." With that, he gave her a farewell bow and left the room.

It seemed like every time he came through that door he either got her confused, or showed a new side of himself.

She couldn't decide whether it was good or bad. She really needed some sleep. Preferably free of dreams.

_**End of Chapter 2**_

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_**A/N:**__ Seriously, people, it's not me, it's Jazz, he's doing whatever he wants, I've no say in this, I swear! He's just that smug and cheesy to the bone… er, protoform. And honestly, I have no idea what he's going to do the next second; he surprises even me. Review please, I need to know if I'm moving in the right direction… Be safe, guys. See ya in the next chapter ;)_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:**__My dearest readers, you keep flooring me with your fantastic reviews, as well as favorites and alerts. This is amazing and extremely inspiring. Thanks so much! You rock :) And huge thanks for your patience! Because I know how slow I am when it comes to updating my fics. And one particularly BIG hug to my beta Kristie (aka Ionicaq) for being so helpful! Also, I'd like to clarify one thing, just in case: the rating of this story will probably be raised in later chapters. Just a little warning :) So, here is the 3__rd__ chapter, some sort of a "linking bridge": a bit of self-digging, and a bit of fluffy silliness._

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"_**Morning Tea" – Chapter 3**_

A soft purring sound and a ghosting sensation of air moving against Maggie's face slowly pulled the girl from her sleep. She cracked her eyes open and saw a pair of huge green irises with thin vertical slits of black pupils that obviously belonged to a cat. The naturally quiet and graceful feline had brought her nose close to her mistress' and was now sniffing it gently, the animal's curved black whiskers tickling the girl's skin.

"Hey Kitty," Maggie slurred sleepily with a lazy smile, reaching up a hand to caress the silky smoke colored fur. The cat settled down on the pillow near the girl's head, clawed paws combing her long blond hair with careful slow movements.

Maggie's smile widened and she closed her eyes again, enjoying the soothing sensations. Just lying there in her bed, in the soft, warm nest of blankets and pillows, and having Kitty fiddling with her hair, was close to nirvana.

Sometimes Kitty really surprised Maggie by showing more intellect, loyalty and devotion than would be normal to expect from a cat. That morning the clever animal had been showing obvious signs of worry, following the tired Maggie around the house until the girl departed for the Autobot base to work on the new code that Optimus had intercepted. Now it seemed like the cat was happy that her owner managed to have a good sleep.

"Yeah, Kitty, no nightmares, and no headaches," Maggie said, scratching behind the animal's ear and hearing its loud content purr. "Still, I kind of have a lot on my mind now," she mused aloud, needing someone to confide to, even if it was just a cat.

Maggie's brain was finally able to process the last events without getting overheated, and she found herself mentally laying out the past two days before her for a close inspection.

It all had started pretty strange and unexpected. Jazz simply came into her workroom, and – using quite transparent euphemisms – expressed his wish to engage in intimate activities with her… Okay, if you excluded the fact that Jazz was an alien robot, that could happen to anyone. Basically, it happens all the time around the world. According to the statistics, every second at least 500 thousand pairs of people have sex. "Let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel" kind of thing. So no biggie, right? Right.

But…

Well, but. Here was a big stop. A huge gap in the stream of her thinking that presented an attempt to picture the possibility of the here and now changing into a future where she and Jazz could be together. Like a missing stage of evolution between an ape and a human. Or like an elementary school task: you have two points – A and B – and you need to connect them with one straight line. She felt like she had been given a similar task, but hadn't been given a pencil.

The problem was she was standing on the edge of uncertainty, not knowing what to expect and how to act. Not so much because she didn't know what to do with male interest directed at her, but rather because even though Jazz was male, he wasn't human…

But the more she thought about it, the more unfair this thought actually seemed. Yes, Jazz was an alien, another species, not even organic – but the truth was, even if he was metallic and big and had a CPU instead of a brain, he was a Person, just like any other Cybertronian, just like any human. He could feel, he could hurt, and hate… and there was no doubt he experienced all other emotions that were inherent to sentient beings. He was capable of friendship, of loyalty; he possessed an outstanding sense of humor. He was unique in a way that every living being in the Universe is incomparable. And he'd come to her with a very personal request.

And what had been her reaction? Heck, she had freaked out. So violently she hadn't been able to form a coherent thought for the rest of that day, had Megatron-ish nightmares the following night, and acted like a zombie this morning as well, until she'd had several hours of healthy sleep.

And who was she so afraid of? Jazz? The Autobot who had let himself get fucking _ripped in two_ to give the others time to retreat during the battle in Mission City? The Cybertronian guy, always an optimist, who danced his way through every trouble? The one who'd caught the damn chair this morning to keep her from being hurt, seen right through her unfriendly behavior, said nice things and insisted that she should rest?

"Conscience is a bitch, Kitty," Maggie murmured sadly, stroking the cat's soft fur and listening to her pleased purrs. Now the girl felt guilty. For many things at once: for treating Jazz like he didn't deserve trust, for doubting his good nature, for unconsciously pushing him away, for getting scared of him when in reality he'd done nothing to cause it.

"Nothing…" she repeated absentmindedly, recalling and analyzing the history of their relationship.

To tell the truth, she didn't know him all that well, but from day one of their acquaintance she'd learned that he was an honorable mech who, despite his cocky behavior, had a great deal of respect for others, and vice versa. He liked human culture, and that spoke volumes about his bright personality, open-minded and curious. He was perceptive enough to characterize Maggie the day before, and it had actually been funny and disturbingly close to truth.

She chuckled softly at the thought.

He had never invaded Maggie's personal space until the previous morning when he had touched her face. But he hadn't been forcing himself on her, or trying to humiliate or embarrass her – the purpose of the gesture had been clearly to draw the line where Jazz was standing in this whole situation that was unfolding between the two of them.

Maggie felt warmth on her cheeks at the memory of the contact. She remembered every little detail of it. She never thought such a huge creature could be so… gentle. The touch had been soft, and light. Delicate. It hadn't been _unpleasant_. It just felt- unusual. Firstly, because she'd never had a robot touch her in that manner. And secondly, she'd never had _anyone_ touch her with such… admiration. She had been too shocked back then to recognize it. But now this realization confused and surprised her. Never in a million years – not that she would live that long – would she have thought that an ancient being like Jazz could actually find her worthy of admiration…

Maybe – just maybe…

She didn't finish the thought. Whatever this situation was, it wasn't simple. The Question was still hanging in the air, but she needed time to come to any sort of a decision – for her own sake and for the sake of Jazz. And the silver Autobot had made it apparent that he was willing to give her all the time she needed.

Maggie sighed. "Let's have a little snack, Kitty," she said pushing the blankets away and rising from the bed. The cat looked at her with attention, stretched sweetly and followed her to the kitchen on silent paws.

Pouring herself a cup of tea, Maggie decided to put an end to this ridiculous 'a robotic car has a crush on me' panic and start acting normal in Jazz's presence. He deserved that much. That meant being calm, nice, funny, and… well, _normal_.

Yes, that's what adult people do, right?

Too bad, when it came to the Autobots she'd always felt like a little rave girl on the inside.

x-x-x

As much as the mission of "behaving adequately" had seemed impossible, Maggie found it not that hard to relax around the silver 'bot, now that she'd faced her inner problem. He kept paying her little visits every morning at the Autobot base, making her smile and laugh at his jokes, helping if she needed help, telling her the latest news on the never-ending war, and just being a pleasant company. He kept paying her compliments, which made her blush more often than not, which in turn always made him smile and look extremely pleased (and often smug). She felt uncomfortable at first whenever he did that, but she'd eventually learned to accept it as 'Jazz being Jazz.'

Of course, she knew why he was doing it – he was letting her get used to him without putting too much pressure. It basically looked like he was just checking on her on his way to his daily Autobot activities. And it was kind of nice. No pressure, that is. And having someone to talk to. Of course, she had opportunity to speak with all of the Autobots, but still, Jazz's attention made her feel… special.

So, for the past week it had become a ritual: an unhurried morning in her workroom, a cup of green tea, a soft swinging R'n'B tune at the door instead of a knock, a beaming smile that could put Mel Gibson to shame, some chatting/joking/blushing, a promise not to work too hard on her part, and a well-timed retreat on his part. Every day without fail. (Today, though, was an exception, since she was needed by Defense Secretary Keller for a monthly report on the Human-Autobot Cooperation program.)

As a result of this week, she and Jazz were cool. Easy banter and friendly flirting had become a norm. All in all, she was doing okay. No more nightmares, no more headaches.

Until this night. Kitty had been in heat since the previous evening, and considering the lack of cat-pals in the secluded area of Maggie's suburb house to hang out – and spend some quality time – with, Kitty had quickly turned into a real pain in the butt, as well as ears and head, torturing her owner with animalistic cries that sounded as if the feline was going to die the next minute. It had gotten exceptionally annoying during the previous night, which was perfectly understandable.

So right now, Maggie was standing on all fours in the neatly cut grass, the knees of her old torn jeans and her palms soaking in the evening dew. The girl was peering under the porch where Kitty was hiding… Geez, she hated darkness. And, of course, it was pitch-dark under the porch. The dimming light of the setting sun wasn't helping much, and she was starting to consider going into the house for a flash-light.

"Kitty,_why_ on Earth did you have to choose this darn hole as your hiding place?" the girl muttered, straining to see anything in the inky blackness. It looked like Kitty was perfectly content with making god-awful noise from where she currently resided, and wasn't intending to get out in the nearest future on her own accord. "Kitty, come out, honey," Maggie pleaded. "I'd really appreciate that!"

The main question was, why would Kitty hide at all in the first place? It looked like a Love Attack had made her temporarily go insane. Maggie just hoped it wasn't contagious.

Twin sparks of cat eyes flashed in the darkness, and a uterine sound – miraculously softer than everything Kitty had produced up to this moment – reached the girl's abused ears. The cat was somewhere close, but there was absolutely _no way_ that Maggie was sticking her arms into that hole! There could be spiders, and bugs, and rats there… Well, the latter wasn't really likely; Kitty wouldn't fall so low as to allow a _rat_ to share a cubic meter of space with her…

A long, heartfelt catcall behind Maggie's back made her jump a mile and almost catch the wooden banister with her head. She sprung up to her feet and turned around, eyes wide, heart thumping in her chest.

Jazz was sitting in the middle of her lawn in a carefree pose, resting his elbows on his bent up knees. How the hell did he materialize there so soundlessly? She hadn't even heard him!

A second of disorientation grew into the realization that not a minute ago she'd been giving Jazz a perfect view of her rear. Oh well, here comes the blush again.

"Sorry for scarin' ya, babe. Couldn't help ma'self," Jazz spoke up with a grin. "Don't mind me, juz keep doin' whatever it was ya were doin'," he made a circled motion with his hand meaning that she was free to turn around and resume her previous kneeled position on the grass.

Maggie rolled her eyes, still struggling with the heat on her cheeks. That Autobot had a knack for striking appearances and strange greeting lines. "Hello, Jazz. What brought you here?"

"Missed ya at the base today," his grin softened to a smile, and Maggie allowed the corners of her lips twitch – just slightly. Okay, that somewhat rehabilitated him after peeping and startling her.

"Well, I had some work to do, some meetings to attend. I'm still working for the government, you know," she shrugged.

"A call of duty, huh," he chuckled. "So whatcha doin'?"

She threw a glance behind her back. "Uh, I'm trying to persuade Kitty to come out from under the porch."

As if on cue, a loud heart-wrenching wail resounded throughout the yard.

"That Kitty?" Jazz asked, inclining his head in confusion. He'd never been at Maggie's house before and hadn't had pleasure to meet her cat yet.

"Yep, that's Kitty," Maggie gave a small smile.

"Hmm. What's with the wailin'?"

She thought for a moment. How do you explain to a mechanical being the nuances of an organic animal life? "Well," she searched for words, scratching the back of her head. "It's a… mating time for her, and she is- you know, asking for a male," Maggie shrugged.

"Askin' for a male?" Jazz repeated, processing the information. "Wow, that's… kinda blunt," he chuckled. Maggie smirked; finally she knew the limits of Jazz's straightforwardness.

"And annoying as hell," she added aloud. "Because it's been going on since yesterday, with only a couple of short breaks for food and sleep." She dug a small pill out of the back-pocket of her jeans, turned in the direction of the porch, and crouched down. "Hey Kitty, come to momma! I've got something yummy for you, sweetheart! I know you love it!" She called out in the most appealing and joyful intonation she could possibly muster, hoping it would persuade the feline to abandon her sanctuary.

Jazz stopped all movement beside her; they both were staring intently at the porch and listening to Kitty's reaction.

Silence.

Maggie sighed. "She's a real problem kid sometimes."

Jazz smiled at that and nodded at the pill in Maggie's hand. "What's that?"

"Vitamins," she said, straightening and turning back to him. "She really loves them, and they are good for her hair. I don't know why she wouldn't come out…" She spread her arms helplessly in surrender. "So how did you find me?" Quite a rightful question. It was usually Bumblebee who gave her a lift, since the yellow Camaro drove Sam and Mikaela home anyway, and everybody else at the base was busy with patrolling, security, repairs and other important Autobot things.

"Took 'Bee captive. He told me everythin'," Jazz said in an overly serious tone.

"Everything?" She arched a brow.

"Well, yeah. Includin' the classified information like when he'd had his first shot of high-grade, at what age he interfaced for the first time, how many-"

"Okay, okay, I get your point! Welcome to my humble abode," she smiled.

"Thanks," the saboteur grinned. "Nice place," he motioned towards the house. "Too bad the front door's a bit too small for me ta see what's inside."

"It's you who's a bit too large, Jazz," Maggie teased him with a smile.

"Nah. Prime an' 'Hide are the real beasts o' the pack, I ain't really that- Whoa!" Jazz suddenly exclaimed, looking down. Maggie followed his gaze and had to suppress a snicker. While they were talking the curious Kitty had crawled from her place of hiding, approached the sitting Autobot carefully, and was now sniffing at his foot. The sight caused Maggie to smile; Sam had told her the epic story about Mojo peeing on Ironhide's foot, and it was hilarious to watch Jazz freeze dreadfully.

"Is she gonna…?" the Autobot asked somewhat tensely, unsure of what to do.

"No, Jazz, female cats don't do that," Maggie was now grinning from ear to ear.

The feline finished sniffing the saboteur, and then suddenly rubbed her small body against the Autobot's leg and wrapped the fluffy tail around it.

"What's that mean?" Jazz asked in confusion, watching the animal with amusement and not risking moving just yet.

Maggie giggled. "That means Kitty likes you."

"She does?" Jazz shot Maggie a look of surprise and turned his attention back to the cat, a huge grin plastered on his face. "Aww, kitty-girl, I'm flattered," he chirped affectionately, reaching down to run one of his fingers along the soft fur gently, getting a back-arch and a pleased mewl in return.

"Kitty, you mean traitor," Maggie berated the cat half-heartedly. "Don't tell me you fell for that sly grin and broad shoulders, and completely forgot about your mom."

Jazz laughed at that, turning his attention to Maggie. "No need for jealousy, baby," he gave the girl a meaningful and playful smile. "I'll make sure she knows ma' spark's taken."

Maggie could only attempt to hide a smirk, shaking her head. "I honestly doubt that'll stop her."

The mech chuckled softly, reveling in the furry-purry attention Kitty was giving him. Maggie wished she had a camera to perpetuate the image of Jazz getting 'hit on' by a cat.

Jesus, now her _cat_ liked him…

Could life get any crazier?

"Maggie, I actually wanted ta ask-" Jazz said. "Ya got any plans for tonight?"

Oh. Apparently it could.

_**End of Chapter 3**_

* * *

"_Let's do it like they do on the discovery channel" – these words are not mine, it's a line from the song "The Bad Touch" by Bloodhound Gang; just felt the need to point this out._

_**A/N:**__Okay. It seems to me there was a little too much of Kitty in this chapter, but it sort of gave things more domestic spirit. Besides, I needed this cat for further plot. I hope it didn't suck too much :D Please review and let me know what you think of this. Be safe, see you in the next chapter :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:**_ _Whoa, I'm SO sorry for being such a slow shitty writer! So much has happened during the time I haven't been updating, both in my personal life and at work, and all of it gave its effect on my inspiration. I just hope you guys won't kill me… Here goes a new part. What can I say? The story's getting a little… more deep, or serious, or something. All I know is that for some uncontrollable reason it ceased being a non-stop comedy. Sorry, I can't help it. So, okay, in this chapter, Maggie learns more about Jazz… maybe even a little bit more than she'd have felt comfortable knowing :)_

_**White Evergreen**__, I'm giving you credit for the idea you expressed in your comment to the previous chapter; I used it in this part. Thank you!_

_**Flamingmarsh**__, thank you so much for betaing this chapter for me!_

_Oh, I almost forgot! If you haven't seen **TK-Productionz**'s comic "Wax On, Wax Off" she drew specially for this story, go and look for the link in my profile. Like, now! :) That comic is awesome, give her your warmest hugs, she deserves them big time._

* * *

"_**Morning Tea" – Chapter 4 **_

Definitely, Pontiac Solstice was a gorgeous freaking car.

That was the thought that refused to leave Maggie's mind as the aforementioned car raced her along the highway to the unknown destination.

And that thought, coupled with the luxurious feeling of soft, warm leather against her back and under her palms, made the girl embarrassingly aware of her own shabby appearance.

Maggie's eyes dropped down to the torn-up knees of her wane blue jeans that were still wet from kneeling in the evening grass; then to the pink blouse with long sleeves that was cozy and adorable of course, but so old it could have successfully belonged to, say, her grandma; and, lastly, to the sneakers that she'd chosen specifically for the intricate task of digging Kitty from under the porch and that _used_ to be white some four or five years ago… The girl combed her wild and disheveled hair carefully with her fingers, but suspected that it didn't help much and that she still looked like she'd just emerged from the slums or something.

Yeah, she fit _just_ fine behind the wheel of a Pontiac Solstice (even though the roof was up, and there was no big chance of somebody seeing the details of her outfit). Not to mention that it was supposedly a date – _oh, God_ – and girls are supposed to look pretty while on a date, and everything in her life obviously went the opposite way from the right one, and her escort was a robot, and she didn't look pretty at all, and-

"Hey Maggie," Jazz's low and deep voice interrupted her self-pitying party. It felt like it sounded from everywhere at once, surrounding the girl and enveloping her like a soft warm blanket. "Have I told ya pink is yer color?"

Geez, did he just read her thoughts about her lame looks or what? The idea was giving her the creeps.

"Um… Nope, I believe you haven't," she gave a small one-shouldered shrug, a little uncomfortable. Not only because of his perfect timing, but also because she wasn't yet used to talking to a- radio. Well, she needed to look _somewhere_ while speaking with Jazz, so she chose to look at the radio.

"Ah, ma' bad. 'Cuz it is, an' ya look… delicious in it," the intonation gave an impression that Jazz was smiling, and those last silky words were said so sincerely she almost believed him. Almost.

The girl sighed with a smile of her own. "Well, it's nice of you Jazz, thanks," she said, all the while wondering how the hell she had allowed herself to be talked into something like this- whatever it was…

"…_Ya got any plans for tonight?" the question came out of the blue, derailing Maggie's cogitations about strange twists of her outstanding life._

_The girl was so surprised, she didn't even have enough brain capacity to process the possible lies like "yeah, I gotta clean my house," or "sorry, too much work," or to just flat out play dumb blond and change the subject._

"…_No?" she said with pathetic honesty, staring dumbstruck at the mech that was sitting on the ground in front of her. That very second her brain tardily grasped the implications of such an indiscretion on her part; she knew she was in for some serious trouble._

_As if to confirm her thoughts, Jazz gave her a thorough once over, making the girl blush again. How he managed that not only being a non-organic creature, but also with his optics shielded from the world, was beyond her mental grasp. Maggie more sensed than saw his gaze linger appreciatively in several particular places of her figure. That gaze was observant, lazy, and felt almost like a physical caress, and the girl wondered if it was a real interest or just an act born from his wish to mimic human signals of attraction. But when a slow fond smile appeared on Jazz's lips, there could be no doubt it was genuine._

_Maggie snapped out of her stupor._

_Alright, now life got _really _crazy. In fact, it had reached the level of craziness when she wasn't sure she could deal with it without breaking at least some part of her poor brain._

_She buried her hand in her hair and opened her mouth, meaning to say that she was sorry, but she wasn't in the mood (and in any clothes) for anything tonight… But a soft buzz of Jazz's joints stopped her speech and movement. She froze in confusion, watching the saboteur as he reached his hand towards her slowly._

_Just like a week ago._

_Except this time his palm stopped mid-air, open and facing up, about half a yard from her._

_Maggie glared at the metallic limb in front of her; then up at Jazz. It took her some time to realize with astonishment that he was- offering her a hand and waiting for her to accept and take it._

'Come ma' lady, come, come ma' lady…' _the song sounded softly from the Autobot's speakers, just as he bent his head to the side with a mysterious smile, emphasizing the lyrics silently. The rich amber-golden light of the setting sun made Jazz's armor shine like a quicksilver; his usually black visor was glowing luminescent blue, casting an eerie cloud of neon to the lower half of his face and softening his strong features. And right now, casually relaxed and half covered by the twilight shadows, Jazz looked like a very large and athletic human male in some kind of a strange hi-tech exo-suit._

_Maggie tore her eyes from Jazz's face and looked at the offered palm again. It moved forward an inch with a soft 'zzz' sound, as if nudging her conscience towards making a decision. A silent 'come on, do it.'_

_She couldn't believe it. He had just asked her out. And she somehow couldn't possibly say "no" at this point, not with the way he was looking and smiling at her…_

_Still in half-hearted denial, Maggie hesitantly reached out and touched that silver-golden palm, for the first time, by her own will. The girl's small fingers wrapped around one of the mech's much larger digits, feeling the shiny surface of the Autobot's metallic skin with tentative curiosity. Maggie's heart sped up a bit when that huge palm closed around her delicate hand slowly and carefully, warming and caressing it with tenderness that was both unexpected and natural at the same time. She knew how much strength this very palm possessed; it could tear metal apart like paper, it could crush stones into sand. So much power – but absolutely no threat whenever he touched her, only the feeling of safety and something else…_

"_I take that smile as a 'yes' then?" Jazz asked quietly with a playful smirk, and, indeed, she found herself smiling for some unknown reason._

_So crazy._

_Maggie chuckled disbelievingly instead of an answer. It looked like she really did say "yes" without as much as making a sound…_

…So, between Jazz's enthusiasm and her confusion, she hadn't had enough time to change into something more fitting the occasion (though she still didn't know if it could be called a date). Which was an equivalent of a local apocalypse for a girl who preferred wearing high heels on a daily basis. Thus the fumbling with her hair and constant straightening of clothes now.

"What, ya don' believe me?" Jazz asked, picking up on her mood. Maggie just smiled and sighed again. Even though she did think he was only being nice and she didn't really deserve his compliments in regards to her "delicious" looks, she still had a woman's dignity, and wouldn't admit any of it aloud. No way. Robot or not, a male shouldn't know such things.

"I do believe you, Jazz, thanks," Maggie nodded. "Hey, is that Rihanna?" She tried to change the topic of the conversation, drawing the Autobot's attention to the song on the radio. '_Baby you got the key, Now shut up and drive, drive, drive…'_ A grin curved the girls' lips at the lyrics that fit the situation.

"Rihanna, a'ight," Jazz laughed, catching the cue and increasing the volume. His engine growled like an enraged animal, and the girl's gasp of surprise turned into a light laughter of amused joy as they raced even faster than before.

It wasn't long before Jazz slowed down and took a turn, heading to the fenced territory that Maggie instantly recognized as…

"…A drive-in?" She spoke incredulously. And it suddenly made perfect sense; where else would a robotic car take a girl?

"Yep, that's right!" Jazz replied enthusiastically. "I got a special spot for us, the best there is."

He headed towards one of the rows and parked in the middle of it.

"What's the movie?" Maggie asked with impatient interest, glancing around at other cars and at the large screen ahead where she could see ads running. It's been quite some time since she last visited a drive-in…

'_**Arlette'**_ – the screen shined with beautiful letters, and Maggie chuckled. She hadn't seen this movie (to her absolute shame), but she'd heard more than enough about it to know it was about love.

"Hope ya don't mind my choice," Jazz rumbled.

"It's good, I don't mind at all." She gave a kind smile to the radio, feeling a little bit foolish for doing so, but dismissing it.

"Ya comfortable?"

"Yes, thank you." She folded her arms across her chest awkwardly. The pose might have seemed unconfident, but she was merely not sure where to put them. After all, she was sitting in a living robot folded into the form of a car…

One of Jazz's panels opened all of a sudden, and a little tray emerged from its depths, a paper cup with ice-cream on it.

Maggie's brain stopped as she glared at the cup.

_Ice-cream_, for God's sake.

Strange thoughts began swarming in her head, like where exactly he had been keeping _food_ inside his body, and where he'd gotten it from in the first place… It would also mean that he'd been prepared for this evening even before he came to her place and asked her out…

"I didn't know how ya like yer ice cream, but I've seen ya eatin' chocolate a coupl'a times, so I went for the chocolate syrup," Jazz explained softly. He must have interpreted her silence as reluctance to eat what he had offered her.

Maggie couldn't contain a smile of endearment at that. "You are a good observer then, Jazz, because I do like my ice cream with chocolate syrup," she chose to go with the flow, and took the cup carefully. Her mood was getting better and better with every second. That is, until… "Uhh, Jazz…? You got a spoon anywhere for me?"

The car went unusually silent. Then, "A spoon?"

"Well, yeah. I need something to eat the ice cream with."

Jazz's engine gave a groaning sound. "Ah, slag," he quietly cursed.

Maggie decided to spare him the confusion, and laughed. "You brought me ice cream, but forgot the spoon. What a blast."

Jazz was now laughing along with her. "I'm sorry, Maggie! We Cybertronians consume energon, and we don't use any auxiliary facilities. It just got completely wiped from my memory-banks that ya'd need a spoon… Oh, Primus…"

"It's alright, I- guess I can manage without it," she mused eyeing the cup in her hands, picturing herself sticking her fingers into the cold sweet substance and licking them afterwards… Not the most comfortable – and the most modest – way to eat, but it'll have to do.

"Ya sure?"

"Yeah, nothing's gonna stop me," she shrugged.

"Not even my nasty remarks?" He elaborated in a sultry voice, making her smile again and relax against the seat.

"Not even that," she stated with determination, then caught a little of white-and-brown frozen cream on her finger, and delivered it to her mouth, rolling the sweetness on her tongue and swallowing with bliss. "Mmm, this is good."

"I'm glad yer enjoying it," Jazz purred. "As much as I am."

She knew he was joking, but her cheeks tinted red nevertheless.

Jazz laughed joyfully and tuned in on the needed radio-frequency so that they could listen to the audio-stream of the show.

_**x-x-x**_

The movie turned out to be a really good one, not to mention that Christopher Lambert made a really good womanizer. Jazz kept making curious remarks and asking questions throughout the first half of it.

"So… he's with her for money?" He mused.

"Well… Yeah, in a way," Maggie nodded watching as Frank tried to win Arlette's heart by way of deception.

"Is that- normal for humans?"

"What? No!" She was horrified that he might get such an impression. "I mean…" She couldn't believe she was discussing this with him. "Well, such things are happening all over the world, yes, but… It's not right, if you meant that."

"Not right? Why?" He asked.

Maggie refrained from mentally comparing him to an innocent child, because even though he was sincerely curious, he was anything but innocent; he just was from another planet.

"Because, love is not about money," she stated at the lack of a better explanation.

"But, what about…" he paused, and a small chirp was probably an indication that he was looking something up on the internet, "…prostitution?" he finished his question.

"That's not love, it's just sex. For money. Most of the times it's dirty and low… Does your kind have an analogue?"

Another quiet chirp, then, "Ain't an analogue, but yeah, we have somethin' like that. Though, it's more like… companionship."

"Oh…" She could only say to that. She'd thought that the Cybertronians, being a higher race and all, wouldn't have – wouldn't _need _– something like that.

"Ya sound like it's bad," Jazz noted carefully, his statement partially a question.

"Well, I, for one, wouldn't like it if someone was with me for a reason other than myself," she said. "I don't understand how people can use such… services. They've got to have no respect for themselves and for the ones who offer such services," she mumbled shaking her head.

"It's a matter of perception, Maggie," he said pensively. "And respect, actually. Ya see, my kind has a very long life span, and no means of natural procreation, so, unlike human sex, interfacing has only a recreational meaning. It ain't somethin' low, or forbidden, or shameful. Some even consider it a form of art, and some strive ta get to the very heights of it. And that, in its turn, brings up a natural chain of reactions, like others wantin' ta get a taste of it, or spendin' time with skillful professionals regularly due ta havin' no permanent partner… But the companions have a right ta choose for themselves, or ta decline offers. It's always 'bout respect and never 'bout money."

"Oh…" Maggie said again. That was a lot of information to process, and it gave an entirely different angle to things. If anything, it was an entirely different _world_ Jazz was speaking about, with different system of values and standards of behavior. "I guess, it makes sense, then…"

"But he's a jerk," Jazz stated suddenly, startling Maggie.

"What?" She asked.

"That guy on the screen, Frank. He's lyin' ta her."

"Well, the movie wouldn't exist if it didn't teach the viewer something," the girl smiled. "Now be quiet, and let's watch."

_**x-x-x**_

By the time the ending titles appeared on the screen, Maggie's ice-cream has long since completely melted. She drank the rest of it, experiencing that feeling of satisfaction she always had after eating something sweet.

"Ya know, I think I like that guy after all," Jazz decided.

"You thought he was a jerk an hour ago," she smiled, folding the paper cup neatly and putting it into another panel Jazz had moved towards her.

"Well, he got the guts ta do what was right, and made 'er happy, ya gotta give 'em that," he chuckled.

"Oh yeah, I guess it somewhat makes up for his fraud," she lifted her brow slightly, trying to look skeptical.

Jazz laughed. "Anyways, he'd suffered enough before endin' up bein' together with Arlette, don'tcha think?"

Maggie grinned. "Okay, okay, he did deserve his happiness!"

"That's more like it!" The saboteur switched on his radio, catching a hip-hop tune, and the car started swaying in place on its springs to the rhythm, making Maggie's smile slip off her face.

"Um, Jazz…" She carefully began. "You do realize how it looks from the outside, right?"

As if echoing her question, the guy in the driver's seat of a nearby car leaned out of his window and watched the swaying silver Pontiac. His angular face with heavy glasses on his nose held a disgusted expression.

Maggie could only be grateful that Jazz's windows were toned, and therefore the guy couldn't see her face.

The swaying stopped. But what happened next possibly scarred Maggie's psyche for the rest of her life.

A handsome black-skinned male appeared on the passenger seat beside her, startling the shit out of her and making her grab the door handle and prepare to flee at a moment's notice. He pushed his shades down his nose slightly; one sky-blue eye gave her a playful wink. The next moment the window on his side rolled down, and he grinned mischievously at the guy who was now glaring at the two of them, obviously taking special notice of Maggie's flaming cheeks and probably confirming his worst suspicions in his mind.

The girl lost the ability to speak, and was staring dumbly at the hologram beside her and at the guy in the other car. She knew all the Cybertronians had a hologram and used it on occasion, but it was the first time she actually witnessed one of them activating it.

She didn't know whether to laugh or to die in place. She didn't know whether to berate Jazz for such a prank or to let herself marvel in the scientific genialness of this invention.

Before she could react in any way, the Pontiac's window rolled back up securely, and the hologram dissolved without a sound. The car's engine growled self-complacently, and Jazz started moving back from their parking spot.

As they were leaving the drive-in, she was still trying to get over her bewilderment and shock.

"Ya okay, babe?" Jazz asked with concern in his voice.

"That was… a strange event," she replied, finding that she was finally able to talk.

"A bad kind of strange or a good kind of strange?"

She smiled broadly. "A crazy kind of strange, that's for sure." The girl giggled, hearing his answering laugh. She suddenly noticed that they were in fact moving in the opposite direction from her house. "Um… Isn't my place that way?" She inquired pointing her thumb back over her shoulder.

"Nah. Th' party's not over yet, if that's what ya mean," Jazz cryptically replied.

"Oh? So what else do you have in store?"

"Jus' wait and see, baby," he laughed, speeding up.

_**End of Chapter 4**_

* * *

_Songs used:_

_Crazy Town – "Butterfly"_

_Rihanna – "Shut Up And Drive"_

_**A/N:**_ _Thank you for reading. I'm bear-hugging all of you who are with me, and favoriting, and reviewing, 'cause, let's face it, you are the best! :)_

_A couple more notes for those who have been wondering:_

_1)__There will be no solid holograms in this fic, as you might already have guessed; only natural-born humans and mechs. I only used the 2007 movie concept of the holograms._

_2)__The rating will go to M eventually (for naughty adult content, yes), so in case you find the idea unappealing, it's not late to stop reading yet ;)_

_You guys are more than welcome to leave your reviews/comments; I'd like to know what you think, your ideas, your guesses, and anything else you have to say. I'm happy if I know _you _are having fun :) Happy New Year, everyone! Be safe, and see ya in the next chapter._


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:**_ _Hi again :) This is the second – and currently the last – part of what I've come up with during my long absence. A little about this chapter. I think it's important for the entire story, for more than one reason. It reveals more about Jazz, and it makes Maggie realize some things she didn't even expect to…_

_**Flamingmarsh**__, thank you for your beta-help :)_

_P.S. I'm really not good with cars, and just in case you see any lack of correspondence of Jazz's physical characteristics to those he had in the 2007 movie throughout this fic – let's just explain it this way: after being reactivated by Ratchet he'd undergone a procedure of inventive tuning, so anything's possible in this universe. I know, it's a lame excuse, but I'm much better at romance than at technology :D With that said, on to reading!_

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"_**Morning Tea" – Chapter 5**_

"It's almost night; we're in a forest; no lights or people around… should I be worried, Jazz?" Maggie joked with a laugh, eyeing the surroundings flowing outside the car.

"Aw, baby, ya know me better'n that," Jazz laughed along with her, stopping at the clearing that presented a hill, similar to the lookout Bumblebee liked to take his two humans to.

Maggie left the car, and Jazz started shifting his form. The girl decided right then and there that she'd never get tired of watching the Autobots transform. In a couple of seconds, the saboteur was standing beside her on his two powerful legs.

"So… the mission objective is…?" Maggie asked curiously, looking at his glowing visor.

Jazz only smiled and wordlessly lifted his face up. Maggie followed his gaze – and gave an astonished gasp of awe.

It was a clear cloudless night. Meaning that myriads of stars were spilt across the inky abyss of the sky. The tiny spots seemed to wink down at them, shining like little space diamonds, and looked so close that for a moment one could have believed it was possible to reach out and touch them, if not for their unearthly beauty that made them unreachable, untouchable…

"Wow, if I knew ya'd like this so much, I woulda brought ya here a long time ago," Jazz softly smiled, and Maggie realized he had been studying her reaction. Feeling a little embarrassed, the girl smiled in answer and sat down on the grass to watch the stars for a little while.

"Actually, it hasn't been long since I moved to the house where I live now," she explained. "I used to live in the city before that. And when you live in a big city and work in an office day in, day out- you don't think about the sky above your head. The busy rhythm of life engulfs you, and the artificial illumination obscures the view… It's easy to forget how beautiful the stars are."

"Yeah, they're beautiful," Jazz intoned with a similar smile. The genuine admiration was obvious in his tone. He lowered himself to the ground beside Maggie carefully and stared up.

"You do this often?" the girl asked softly.

"Ya mean stargazin'?"

"Mm-hm."

"Not really."

"Why?" Maggie asked in surprise, turning her head to him. "You seem to like it."

He shrugged slightly. "Reminds me of home, I guess."

Okay, now she felt stupid. And she wanted to kick herself in the head if it were possible. She could've guessed what those sparks of silver in the bottomless blackness of sky meant to such a creature like Jazz.

Stars, and planets.

And one of them was Cybertron, or what was left of it – an inhospitable lifeless pile of metal floating in the depths of space…

"I'm sorry," she whispered, watching him closely.

"Don't be," he shook his head slightly, still looking up. "They're beautiful. With a good company that's all that matters." He smiled contentedly, soothing Maggie's doubts, and laid back on the ground. The girl followed his example after a minute of contemplation, having placed her cell phone between them.

The two sank into their thoughts, just lying there, on the soft grass, listening to the wind sighing in the trees and to the whispering night songs of cicadas. It could have been chilly on the ground, but Jazz's body emanated warmth, so Maggie didn't have to worry about it. Suddenly the girl was glad that she was wearing jeans, old blouse and sneakers – she'd look quite ridiculously in a mini-skirt and high heels right now. In fact, her current outfit was giving her a strange feeling of relaxed coziness. All daily problems were gone, giving way to inner peace. The sky was so high and deep, and the stars so small and sharp – a clear picture of a surreal entity. She could see the constellations as if they were painted on a giant black canvas. A perfect visual illusion of order amidst the endless chaos…

"What's it like?" She murmured barely above whisper after what seemed like an eternity. It was foolish, but at that moment it seemed to her that if she spoke too loud she would scare those stars away.

"What?" He purred in reply.

"Space… I always wondered… But you gotta be some kind of a super human to get a space visa nowadays," she chuckled sadly.

Jazz moved his head a little, and his visor changed color several times. "Th' web says some special trainin's required for the cosmonauts."

"Yeah. For us humans it's not exactly a road trip. Space is a highly hostile environment, so you could say the cosmonauts are practically _bred_, healthy, physically trained and able to operate shuttles and orbital stations. And even then, a person might spend their entire life preparing for a space flight, and never get to actually do it, because they're only an indemnifying stand-in, and their services are not required."

"Well, not a big loss for them really, 'cause it's cold," Jazz said with a little shrug, and his voice colored with a smile. "An' boring."

"Oh really?" Maggie smirked as well.

"Well yeah! Jus' imagine thousands of light years of absolute silence. No noise, no music. Nuthin'!" Jazz threw one hand into the air in a small gesture of annoyance. "Enough ta drive a mech crazy!"

Maggie couldn't hold back a soft laugh. "Oh my, I should have known you'd say something like that."

"Why?" he grinned. "Am I that predictable?"

"In some aspects – definitely," she stated in a smug voice.

"Dang it, I need ta work on ma' image," Jazz laughed in response.

He turned his large head to her, dimming his visor a little so as not to blind her. His huge grin softened to that same warm smile he'd shown Maggie a week ago, when he'd first come to her with his strange request. It was only then that she noticed just how close they were lying; she'd never been this close to any of the Autobots; to Jazz… Their position on the ground had erased the height difference between them. They were face to face. And they were studying each other.

Maggie felt the silence start to change; charge and thicken. She cleared her throat nervously. "…Jazz?" She said, remembering what had been on her mind for some time.

"Hmm?" A low thunder-like rumble of his voice vibrated on her skin.

"I never had a chance to tell you… What you did in Mission City…"

"I acted on instinct," he said in an 'it's nothing, drop it' intonation, turning his face up to the sky again. The invisible connection was broken with the loss of eye contact, like a spell dissolving.

Her eyebrow rose. "Sentient robots have instincts?" This question slipped out before she could hold it back.

"Yeah, sorta. More like, we develop a semi-autonomous way of thinkin' that's partially defined by our initial programmin'."

"Oh. Um…" The girl's inquisitive mind registered and filed away the new information, and jumped back to the previous thought. "What I wanted to say is that… it was brave, really brave."

"Well, I hadn't been countin' on Mega-tard ta rip me to pieces, so that kinda excludes the bravery-factor," he chuckled, turning the sensitive topic into a joke. He obviously was uncomfortable with taking praise, and it surprised Maggie, considering Jazz's charismatic, self-assured personality. But that didn't deter the girl from asking the question that was on her mind.

"Well… If you knew it would end up like that… would you have changed your actions in any way?"

That question seemed to have surprised the Autobot, because he gave her a strange look. "Ya really wanna know?"

Maggie nodded mutely.

"…It was a strategic hole of sorts," he said after a pause, his gaze returning to the stars. "There was nuthin' else that could be done at that moment. So, nah, I wouldn't."

Only having heard those words, she realized she'd been expecting to hear them. Not because of some 'standards' of courage she had (you never know how you would act in this or that situation until you end up dealing with it in real life), but because she sensed that he really would do that again if he had to.

"It must have hurt like hell," she said quietly, musing aloud.

Jazz let out a short low laugh. "I don't think I had time ta notice, Mag."

The cheerfulness of his tone was engulfed by the dead silence that followed. Maggie didn't react to that statement, because she knew it was a lie. She knew for a fact that Ratchet had studied the contents of the Autobot equivalent of a 'black box' embodied in Jazz's central processor. While the silver mech had still been deactivated, the medic, on Maggie's hesitant request, had told her the details of the saboteur's death. She'd been terrified to learn that the oblivion hadn't come to Jazz right away; his systems had kept running for several long seconds, shutting down one by one, sending alarms into his overloaded CPU, until it had finally short-circuited for good and ceased to function… Maybe he hadn't had time for much thought before he jumped in front of Megatron, but God only knows what he'd had to go through during those several seconds… So she just waited, reading the barely visible tenseness in his posture.

"Anyways, better me than one o' the guys," he murmured in a casual voice after another pause, staring somewhere up into the inky-silver sky.

"Why?" She sat up, confused, and looked down into his inscrutable face as if it could help her get a glance into his soul and come to a better understanding.

"They're too important for our mission ta get terminated in battle if it can be avoided," came his tranquil and measured reply, as if he was stating an obvious thing.

She stared at him dumbfounded. This was definitely some kind of crazy, twisted warrior's reasoning, and – what was the most exasperating about it – being a civilian, Maggie could neither agree with it, nor object it. She didn't know what his usual daily activities were, and she couldn't coldly estimate his actual value or importance to the team from the military point of view. But something inside of her demanded that she reassured him that he did have a reason to come back from a battle; that he did have someone who cared about him. She ached to respond with, 'You are important to _me_,' but wouldn't those be too big words, or too rushed? She could already hear his natural question in her head, 'Why?' And to that, she didn't have an answer. So she opened her mouth, and closed it again, unable to follow her own logic.

The heavy silence was torn by the ringing of Maggie's cell-phone that lay on the ground between them. The girl welcomed such a well-timed distraction, but as soon as she read the name that appeared on the small display her heart sank. 'Andrew,' it said; the Andrew from work who'd been bugging her with calls for some time now.

She let out a weary groan under her breath, her slim palm coming up to her face to rub at her forehead uncomfortably. She didn't want to pick up that one; she _so_ didn't need this at that moment…

She felt Jazz's curious gaze on her and glanced up into his visor. The 'bot had sat up as well and was now studying the phone.

"'Andrew'?" he asked.

Again, Maggie opened and closed her mouth. The phone kept ringing; the two of them were staring at each other. What she couldn't understand was _why_ on Earth she felt like she'd done something wrong and like she needed to explain herself. It was ridiculous…

"Well, he's a nice guy, polite and all, but- he isn't really my type," she said in an embarrassed mumble. "I told him that many times, but he just refuses to take a 'no' for an answer." Maggie fell quiet again and glared at the phone, wishing for it to just stop ringing. Maybe if she didn't answer the call long enough Andrew would give up? Though, usually it took more than that to discourage him for a little while if at all. The guy was spotlessly polite and incredibly thick-sculled. An awful combination that bordered on snobbism, but wasn't enough to have a real reason to say that he was a jerk.

Jazz watched her for a couple of seconds, the joyful ringing of the phone seeming an out-of-place sound in the peaceful night around them. Maggie lifted her gaze and tried to decipher his facial expression. What was he thinking? Was he offended somehow? Or angry? Boy, could he be unreadable.

"Ya want 'em off yer case?" he finally asked. He sounded calm, and for some reason it made Maggie relax a little.

"Uh… Frankly, even though I doubt I'll get so lucky in the nearest future… yeah, I really wish he'd stop calling…" she confessed, now staring at the device with a miserable expression on her face.

"'kay," Jazz said simply with a small smile. That very moment the cell-phone stopped ringing. But the reason was not the caller having given up – no, the phone had miraculously received the call and switched to the speaker phone. Maggie gaped at it in shock listening to the soft noises of the open line. She didn't know what to say or do now that Andrew was obviously waiting for her to acknowledge her readiness to speak with him.

But Jazz beat her to it.

"Yeah?" He drawled lazily in a deep voice, taking the initiative. Maggie's eyes shot up to the saboteur; the girl lifted a brow in amusement as it dawned on her that it had been him who had picked up the phone. Remotely, no less. She hadn't expected Jazz to do something like that. It was getting interesting.

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. Then a confused male voice, quite familiar to Maggie, spoke politely, "Uh… Good evening. Can I- Can I speak to Maggie, please?"

"An' who're you?" Jazz replied none too pleasantly. By the way he sounded one could imagine him frowning – Maggie couldn't be sure though, because of the visor that was covering the entire upper half of Jazz's face. She crossed her arms over her chest with a crooked smile, curious about where all this was headed.

"Um… my name is Andrew. I'm Maggie's co-worker," the man introduced himself somewhat carefully.

"Oh, hey Andrew," Jazz greeted him with a 'whatever' air to his tone. "Mag's in the shower. Ya want me ta take a message?"

Maggie barely managed to suppress a laugh before it could escape her. She hid the smirk in her fist.

"Er…" Andrew started hesitantly, but before he could form any kind of response he was interrupted by a cheerful female voice that called rather loudly from somewhere inside of Jazz and that Maggie, to her absolute shock, recognized as her own: "_Hey Kitty, come to momma! I've got something yummy for you, sweetheart! I know you love it!"_ Immediately, the first sensual chords of some slow R'n'B song started pouring out of Jazz's speakers.

Maggie's jaw dropped.

"Yeah, pumpkin, I'm comin', just a sec!" Jazz called out in reply to her recorded voice, flashing the stunned girl a rakish grin. Absorbed in his "role," he then addressed Andrew again, "Ya'd better be quick, man, don' wanna make ma' lady wait."

Maggie put her hand over her mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back a fit of mad giggles that threatened to spoil everything.

"Uh… Well…" Andrew stuttered. "N- no, thanks, I… Good night."

"Same to ya, dude," Jazz had time to respond before the line went dead. The Autobot looked at the girl, and pointed to the cell-phone on the ground between them. "I'm ready ta bet ma' stereo that this guy won't bother ya again," he announced with a tone of finality.

They both burst into laughter. Maggie hadn't laughed like that in a long time. She couldn't believe how perfectly casual and _natural_ Jazz's conversation with Andrew had been. Not to mention how inventive the Autobot could obviously be when he set his mind on something. "Jazz, you're such a- such a-" she wiped the tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes.

"A saboteur?" the silver 'bot prompted with a huge grin on his face. "Yeah, that's what I dig – improvisation." One side of his visor changed its color from blue to black for a second, the flash creating an illusion of a wink.

"And, damn, you're good," she giggled again, and then looked up at him skeptically. "But- for God's sake, '_pumpkin_?'" She replayed the scene in her mind. 'Pumpkin,' along with 'kitty' and 'momma,' had to be the weirdest mix of endearments ever.

Jazz shrugged, his broad metallic shoulders rolling with a gentle whirr, an impish smile gracing his lips. "It kinda slipped out."

She shook her head with a matching smile. "If my co-workers find out about that, I'm never gonna hear the end of it."

The Autobot chuckled in pretended empathy, and then inclined his head to the side, studying her. "…Maggie?"

"Yes, Jazz?"

Several seconds passed; he was silent. Then something in his pose – or maybe in his face – changed; for a moment, the impenetrable façade gave a slight crack, revealing a glimpse of Jazz Maggie had never seen before – vulnerable and uncertain. The smile on the girl's face froze forgotten. She sensed that his next words would be important, and tensed mentally.

"Juz so ya know… I _can_ take a 'no' for an answer," the mech said in a soft quiet voice, his visor-covered optics never leaving Maggie.

She stood there, unmoving and looking up at him. It suddenly became clear to her that as much as he looked confident, and pushy, and ram-like, he could perfectly see how strikingly different the two of them were, just as she did. He too had doubts; he too was unsure.

Maggie wasn't used to seeing Jazz like this. She was used to think of him as of a 'macho' type, albeit a nice one. She was used to seeing him like a carefree, ironic mech who loved risk, laughed at danger and defied death itself. "No fear, no regrets" – that motto seemed to characterize Jazz's strong personality to the fullest. And now – this. She didn't know how to deal with _this_…

For a moment she thought she'd gone crazy, because how else do you call an overwhelming feeling in your chest when you want to hold someone close and give them a part of your warmth until you make it better? She felt like she had discovered yet another side of Jazz, because this – him showing her his insecurity – was something far more intimate and trusting than any physical contact could be.

Maggie gave him a gentle smile, trying to lighten up the mood. "You mean, I won't need, say, to talk Ironhide into pulling the same trick as you just did, giving you a call and pretending I'm in the wash-racks with him giving him a back-rub, or something?" She joked.

"Nah," a playful smirk appeared on Jazz's face. "I wouldn't believe it anyway. He wouldn't be able ta pull a good act for the life of 'em."

"You think so? Well, a couple of loud grunts on his part would do to create the needed impression," she mused. "He's good at grunting."

"Whoa, girl, is there somethin' I should know 'bout you an' 'Hide?" Jazz's deep laughter was so contagious that Maggie could do nothing but join him, feeling the invisible spring inside uncoiling slowly. "Speakin' of wash-racks," the Autobot continued. "I haven't had a good wash in a while. Mind givin' me one?" His sly tone suggested that if he'd had eyebrows he'd have been waggling them right now.

For the second time that evening, Maggie folded her arms over her chest skeptically, trying to look mildly annoyed. "You do realize that, normally, I wouldn't have agreed, right?" She asked, squinting a little, but knowing that the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her.

"Does that mean yer agreein' now?" Jazz purred. "I mean, ya _do_ owe me for savin' ya from… the unneeded attention of unwelcome admirers," he grinned.

Maggie let out a laugh. "Yeah, I really appreciate that, Jazz. And as a thank-you, alright, I'll give you a wash on Sunday," she confirmed in an almost official tone, as if giving a solemn promise.

"A Sunday wash," Jazz repeated in half-question, inclining his head forward slightly.

"Yup," Maggie nodded.

"A niiiice, _loooong_ Sunday hand-wash, huh?" he drawled, corners of his lips starting to curve up.

"…Now, _that_ sounded perverse and just plain wrong, Jazz," Maggie glared at him.

"What? I'm juz makin' sure ya ain't gonna spray me with a hose for like, ten seconds, an' then leave me there all miserable an' wet. Is that a crime?" Jazz gave a farewell glance to the sky and folded into his car-form, an opened driver's door inviting Maggie inside.

"You have an issue about hoses?" The girl asked taking the so nicely offered seat and making herself comfortable. The seatbelt snaked around her and tightened its hold gently for a second before settling in the lock. The Pontiac's engine purred as the car drove off in the direction of her house.

"Well yeah! It's ticklish and not nice at all."

"Okay, no hoses then."

"Ahh, I'm countin' seconds," the saboteur breathed in anticipation.

"Jazz, you're a pervert, you know that?"

"Why, thanks for the compliment, baby," he laughed.

"I hope I won't regret this," the girl mumbled to herself, unable to hold back an amused smile of her own.

"Aw, ya'll like it."

"Yeah, right…"

"I've heard that one before. Does that mean 'I don't know' in Maggie-speak?"

She snickered. "Kinda."

"Okay, girl, it's a challenge then. We'll see who's right on Sunday."

"Jaaaaz…" she drawled with a weary smile and a disbelieving shake of her head.

"Whaaaat?" he drawled back, a mock resentment in his voice.

And just like that, they entertained each other with an easy playful conversation on their way back to Maggie's home.

Somewhere along the way, doped with the emotional events of the day, the pleasurable tiredness and the soothing sounds of slow music of Jazz's choice, the girl surrendered to sleep and took a short nap, all the while acknowledging the comforting hold of a seatbelt around her frame with some part of her mind that stayed aware of the world around her. When the Pontiac came to a gentle stop and its engine switched to a contented rumble, she guessed they reached her house, and opened her eyes.

Yep, here they were, on her lawn illuminated by the soft yellow light of several short street lamps.

Maggie sighed, enjoying the way the air filled her lungs.

"Thanks for the nice evening, Jazz. I really enjoyed the ride, and the movie, and the stars, and the talk," she said with a smile, running a thumb over the steering wheel lightly.

"Th' pleasure's all mine, girl," the Pontiac purred in answer, his tone pleased, and gentle, and sort of like the one people usually use when they are giving someone a big warm hug.

"Um… okay, see you tomorrow then," Maggie said, and Jazz obediently undid his belt and opened the driver's door so that she could leave. The girl allowed herself a quick stretch and stepped out of the car, heading to the front door.

"Aw, no good-night kiss?" Jazz asked suddenly, and Maggie turned around in surprise, noting that he still maintained his vehicle-form. She was sure, if a car could pout, the Pontiac was definitely doing exactly that. How cute.

"Depends…" She was in an extremely good mood for some reason, and she felt like teasing him a little.

"…on what?" came a careful question.

"On whether it was a date." She folded her arms over her chest.

A pause followed. The car was perfectly still. Then, "…D'you want it ta have been a date?"

"…I don't know." She gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"…So what if it was a date?"

"Too bad then."

"Why?"

"Because I don't kiss on a first date."

Her words were met with heavy silence.

With an eyebrow raised, she watched the Pontiac that was sitting on her lawn. One of the headlights dimmed, and then lit up again, while the other one faded out, the action repeating itself slowly a couple of times. If she was asked, she'd say Jazz was engaged in an intense thinking process. This almost made her giggle. So the silver 'bot couldn't decide what he wanted more – this evening to have been a date, or a _friendly_ good-night kiss. Now _this_ was truly endearing and amusing, like watching a kid who couldn't make up his mind in a toy store.

The girl was about to roll her eyes, bid the Autobot good night, and retreat to the house, without any kisses, but…

…_why the hell not? _the naughty part of her thought. She'd never kissed a Cybertronian before. Wasn't there a first time for everything? Besides, it would be funny as hell to pull at Jazz's strings…

"Okay, fine," she shrugged nonchalantly, coming back over to the saboteur swiftly and putting both palms flat on his hood. With a feral grin she leaned down and planted a sound, generous kiss in the middle of it. Her lips lingered on the warm metal for a moment, and she had to hold back a giggle when Jazz's engine stuttered, the sound of its uneven rumble vibrating through the smooth hard surface under her palms.

Breaking the contact, Maggie chuckled smugly and took a couple of steps back. The Autobot immediately started to transform, causing Maggie to wonder why he would want to do that, until he stilled himself again, now in his bipedal form, sitting down on the grass with a strange expression on his visored face.

Maggie watched him curiously. The saboteur stared at her for a moment, and then dropped his gaze down to the-

…mouth-shaped print of Maggie's brown-peach lipstick that by some unknown, tricky and evil providence, after all the part-shifting and transforming, ended up in the center of his silver chest, right over his spark casing.

The girl froze, now staring at it, too, and slowly coming to the realization of how intimate her rush gesture had probably been, and what meaning a simple human kiss could acquire considering the peculiarities of the Cybertronian anatomy… A horrible thought entered Maggie's head that it must have been the equivalent of kissing someone's crotch.

_Oh shit_, was all she could think, glaring up, her vocal chords paralyzed with shock.

The mood changed drastically. Maggie decided that if there could ever be a perfect moment to die of mortification, it would probably be it. The silence stretched to the point where it was about to become uncomfortable.

"Wow," the Autobot finally rumbled breathlessly, still staring at his chest, his deep voice soft and quiet, but somehow deafeningly loud to Maggie's ears. Jazz's lips stretched into a dreamy smile and he looked back at Maggie intently. "I gotta tell ya, baby, I ain't washin' this off 'til Sunday," he said, slowly tracing the evidence of her kiss on his metallic chest with the tip of one of his fingers. On its way back down to Jazz's side his hand briefly ran over his spark shielding armor and powerful torso in a seemingly innocent, but at the same time extremely provocative manner.

Maggie's eyes widened and her heart kicked in her chest several times hard, before the girl gulped mentally, trying to gain control over her thoughts that had been thrown off-balance by this unexpected sensual display. It wouldn't have been this bad if the memory of Jazz's fingers caressing her face in a similar motion hadn't kept surfacing.

She fumbled with words in her brain, feeling the blush rising to her cheeks and searching for something to say. Something intelligent, that wouldn't make her look like a flustered fool, even though she totally felt like one. "Um… Sure you aren't… Well, good night, Jazz," she said finally, giving the 'bot a weak and nervous smile that felt incredibly fake.

"'Night, Maggie," Jazz smiled in reply, following her every move with his attentive stare, studying her. She couldn't quite interpret his expression, and it was unnerving. God, she really needed to put some distance between them, calm down, and think about it all in a peaceful solitude.

She nodded once absentmindedly, as if confirming that it was time to go, turned around and slowly, as to not show any signs of deathly embarrassment and confusion, went into the house, not risking looking back.

Ignoring Kitty's inquiring stare, Maggie reached her bed on autopilot and flopped down on it fully clothed, still feeling the awkward numbness in her brain, and cursing herself.

She hated feeling stupid.

But she hated feeling out of control even more.

Maggie groaned, draping one arm over her flushed face. How was it possible that she always managed to get herself into absurd situations?

She only found a little comfort in the fact that the lipstick was of a calm pastel tone, not some crying bit red color. That way she still had a small hope that not _everyone_ at the Autobot base would look at Jazz tomorrow morning and immediately notice where her lips had been this night. But she decided to follow Scarlet O'Harra's example and to just "not think about it today."

_Yeah, I'll think about it tomorrow._

Slipping into the world of dreams, Maggie's mind caught up belatedly on the fact that Jazz had actually been _recording_ her voice, and heaven knows what else.

What were the chances of him needing it for scientific purposes? Slim to none.

_Jeez, what a perv._

_**End of Chapter 5**_

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_**A/N: **__Omg. Trust me, I was surprised as much as Maggie by Jazz's actions. O.O Thank you for reading. I'm always glad to hear your opinion, criticism, or anything you'd like to say. In fact, your reviews make me probably the happiest fanfiction writer on Earth, no kidding! ^_^ Be safe, and see ya in the next chapter._


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: _**_First of all, huge sorry for such a long pause between chapters. A lot has been happening in my life. You could actually say I started my life anew, from scratch. For all this time, I haven't written a single line of text (even in my LJ), I just had no inner motivation, despite your reviews being absolutely wonderful and supportive. I'm sorry. I just couldn't do it. Now I'm okay, there's no reason to worry, and I'm back :) And, man, I'm sensing this strange chapter is gonna crack your minds, so brace yourselves :D_

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**_Morning Tea Chapter 6_**

Maggie hadn't had a good sleep that night. When the morning came Kitty watched her with confused eyes the entire time she'd been dressing for work after shower and having a cup of coffee. The clever feline even tried to spike up Maggie's mood by comforting her mistress in her own way – poking the girl's leg with her furry paw now and then, wrapping her warm body around it, all the while asking mute questions with her two huge yellow orbs with vertical irises.

Maggie sighed, giving her cat an affectionate stroke and a tired smile. "Mommy's okay, kid. Be back in a few hours, you won't even have time to miss me. Food's in your bowl, help yourself."

The girl felt this morning wouldn't be a particularly good one. The only positive thing about it was the new stage of her long work at the Autobot base. The month she'd spent there deciphering Cybertronian codes and messages finally resulted in Maggie's cutting-edge invention. It was a program that (in theory) would become a Cybertronian-English translator, be that text or speech. Text was easy enough, but speech was tricky. The piece of code she'd written so far wouldn't be enough to quickly convert the data, she still needed another module that would upgrade the search engine and exclude the unneeded parts of the built-in dictionary from it, based on the type of the sound. Now she needed a good audio-sample, preferably with two or more different sources of speech – in short, she needed to record a conversation of two or more Cybertronians to see if the program could actually tell one mech from another without problems. For that purpose, she grabbed a mini tape recorder and dropped it into her purse.

She made her exit and was immediately welcomed by a familiar joyful honking of the yellow Camaro. A smile tugged at Maggie's lips. "Hey, 'Bee, how are you doing?"

"I am good, thank you, Maggie," the Autobot replied happily. "Did you sleep well?"

She barely suppressed the desire to roll her eyes. Why is it that every time people want to act polite and friendly in the morning they ask you if you'd slept well? In this particular case, it felt very much like prying into her personal life. Even though she knew that Bumblebee didn't mean anything bad she still couldn't help but be slightly annoyed. She was either forced to lie to him, or risk being asked unwanted questions…

"Yep, like a baby," she forced a smile to stretch further, and judging by the energetic roar of Bumblebee's engine, he accepted her answer and was more than ready to race her to the base through the hot desert.

The moment she got inside and was safely buckled up the yellow 'bot floored it, eliciting a surprised yelp from the girl. She gave an amused laugh, "What's going on, 'Bee? Why are you so excited? I mean, more-than-usual kind of excited."

"It shows, doesn't it?" the Camaro laughed in answer. "A new Autobot arrived to the base early this morning. He landed in the desert, not far away from our location, and the human military forces were quick to intercept and escort him to Optimus."

Wow… That was really good news. More Autobots meant a greater chance to preserve peace on Earth in case the Decepticons decided to regroup and strike again for whatever reason.

"What's his name?" Maggie found herself asking.

"Sideswipe. A very interesting individual. You just wait for his twin to arrive, and there'll be real trouble," Bumblebee chuckled.

"Twin?" She had no idea the Autobots had twins.

"It's the closest term I found in your language that could explain the nature of those two. For humans, the term 'twins' suggests two people with identical DNA structure, born together. We Cybertronians don't have parents who give birth to us. We have Constructors and the Allspark… Well, we used to have the Allspark… Anyways, when Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were created, the Allspark produced one spark for the two of them, and it divided itself in two, making them 'twins' in the process."

Maggie shook her head in disbelief with a smile. "The more I know about your kind, the more I realize there's still a lot to learn."

"You have no idea, Maggie," Bumblebee laughed again.

**_x-x-x_**

The yellow Camaro let her out at the entrance to the base and raced to attend to some Autobot business of his. Maggie followed a long path of the main corridor that led to her small office-like room, her heart speeding up in her chest at the prospect of seeing Jazz again. There was no doubt he would show up at her doorstep, and the question was what shape exactly their conversation would take.

As Maggie was passing one of the rooms she noticed that the door wasn't closed, and a stream of clicking and buzzing sounds was coming from the inside which she immediately recognized as a Cybertronian speech. Peeking into the opened door she saw the familiar silver form that could only belong to Jazz, and… He was talking to another silver mech, and Maggie made the logical conclusion that it was Sideswipe.

Well… he was stylish. Shiny. Cool looking. She was 90% sure that if he transformed it would be into a kick-ass sport car, something very impressive.

But, back to business. Since the door was opened, she couldn't be accused of eavesdropping on the two, so she rummaged her purse for the mini tape recorder and pushed the record button to have a good audio-sample to work on later.

In the meantime, the two Autobots continued with their talk, giving no indication that they had noticed her presence. They exchanged a series of clicks, chirps and beeps. Then Sideswipe held up his hands in a gesture of peace, chirping quietly several times. While doing so, he pointed at Jazz's chest plate, and Maggie's cheeks turned hot that very instant. She hadn't even come up with a decent, plausible explanation of how her stray mouth could have landed right on Jazz's spark zone – how could you explain something like _that_? And it seemed like she had just witnessed exactly this kind of conversation.

She waited for Jazz's reaction, holding her breath unconsciously. Then the saboteur let out several repetitive and descending mechanical sounds, and there could be no mistake – it was his laughter that echoed from the walls of the corridor, and that absolutely _wasn't_ something she'd honestly expected. Maggie didn't have a clue what he said next meant in Cybertronian, but an uneasy feeling settled itself somewhere in her chest. Of course, she could have misinterpreted that laughter, and…

Anyways, she had no right to feel offended. She screwed up big time, and here come the consequences – people asking questions…

There was no way in hell she would willingly go to introduce herself to Sideswipe now. Not a chance! She turned the recorder off and headed to her room, trying to get her mind on track of work. Let the terabytes of code be her sweet oblivion.

**_x-x-x_**

So, Maggie was working. Maggie was writing her program. Maggie was drinking her tea and restarting her computer for the fifth time that morning, because it's what the Universe seems to be doing on your bad days - 'processor failure'-ing you in more than one way…

Then Jazz came, shining her a smile from the doorway that she tightly returned.

Her gaze involuntarily dropped to his chest, where that offending mouth-print shone like a fluorescent brown-orange inkblot. Of course, it wasn't that noticeable, it was only her imagination…

In the meantime, Jazz got comfortable on the floor near her table and started with telling her the news on Optimus Prime's latest armor upgrade. He was saying something about Ironhide getting beside himself over the issue, since the weapons specialist had been the one to design that new defense system – but Maggie wasn't listening. It seemed like wherever she was intending to look – Jazz's visor, his hands, his antennas – her eyes inevitably got glued to that spot, her brain losing the train of thought and spacing out of the conversation.

She was staring at Jazz's silver chest again, cursing the stupidity she'd shown the previous evening. _Way to go, Mag_, she thought, angry with herself. It was her fault that she'd made a fool of herself. This was the price for attempting to tease him, even if it was intended as a good-natured friendly 'poke' in the figurative 'ribs.' This was the trophy he now had all rights to keep, because he'd so unexpectedly won that round… Jeez, why did it even feel like they were on the opposite sides of barricades in some kind of a psychological war? And why was this goddamn lipstick print _bothering _her so much?

She suddenly realized that Jazz had actually stopped talking some time ago, and was now looking at her with watchful optics. Although they were hidden behind his ever-present visor, she knew that the Autobot's attention was fixed solely on her.

Under that attentive analyzing gaze Maggie felt exposed like an amoeba under the microscope of a keen scientist. Or like she got caught in the act of doing something silly, or foolish, which was ultimately true. Struggling to chase away the uneasiness, she cleared her throat quietly and ran a hand through her hair, squirming a little in her chair and trying to come up with something to say that would break the silence. Where the hell had all her intelligent thoughts gone when they were needed the most?

One heartbeat. Two. Three…

Then Jazz's hand moved slowly towards the table they were "sharing." One of his big fingers carefully pushed a plastic napkin holder that was sitting in the middle of it towards Maggie. The 'bot then withdrew his arm and resumed his pose with elbows resting on his knees, looking at her, as if waiting for her next move.

She dumbly stared at the holder for a moment in confusion, before the wordless message he had just sent to her by this little act finally sunk into her brain…

'If you want it off, go ahead and erase it.'

Maggie's blue eyes snapped up to the black mirror of Jazz's visor. He looked right back, waiting patiently. He wasn't smiling, wasn't mocking her. He was giving her the right to decide whether the mark should stay on his armor or not – the way to control the situation that was making her uncomfortable. With crystal clarity, she remembered his words from their yesterday's not-exactly-first-date, _"I can take a 'no' for an answer,"_ and the emotion behind those words. He wouldn't question her choice, wouldn't press. He'd accept and understand, no matter what…

Maggie briefly glanced at Jazz's chest, and then reached her hand out towards the holder. After only a moment of hesitation she slowly, but firmly pushed it away an inch and looked back up to the saboteur's face timidly. Maybe she would regret not using such a good opportunity to relieve herself of embarrassment, but she'd regret not giving it a chance way more…

Jazz's metallic lips slowly stretched into a soft smile, and she found herself returning it. The tension was finally eased, and Maggie felt the need to change the subject.

"So, uh…" she cleared her throat. "Tell me more about Optimus' new shield."

"Welcome to the conversation," Jazz chuckled softly, and that made the girl smile again. Apparently, the Autobot had noticed her absent-mindedness this morning. It should have made her uncomfortable, but strangely, it didn't. Jazz had that way of being a friendly kind of straightforward, and yet polite, and yet flirtatious like all hell.

So she just relaxed, and listened to the short list of tech details he gave her, impressed as usual by the genius of Cybertronians in whole and Ironhide in particular. It was normal, it was science, something she was familiar with, something that had always fascinated her.

"Oh!" Jazz exclaimed suddenly, bringing Maggie to sharp attention. "Almost forgot." The Autobot opened a small compartment somewhere on his chest and pulled out a small paper bag. "These are for you," he carefully set the bag on the table and started to rise from his spot on the floor. Maggie, too surprised to comment on the gift, just gave a nod of thanks. "Okay, I'll get goin', before Sideswipe gets himself into trouble. Though, he will anyways – arrived early this morning, an' almost blew up half of Captain Lennox's boys, crazy mech. Shoots first, asks questions later," he laughed heartily. "It was a pleasure," the right half of his visor "winked" at her, and the saboteur headed for the exit. "An' Maggie…" He stopped at the door and made a pause, before finishing the thought in a gentle murmur, "Yer one of the bravest humans I've ever known, girl."

She smiled shyly, he smiled back. And then he was gone.

Maggie stared at the paper bag for a second or two before carefully opening it and peeking inside.

Donuts.

She chuckled quietly in disbelief. Was he trying to bribe her with food? It was unexpectedly nice, though.

The girl looked at the napkin holder on the table and sighed, burying her hand in her wild hair thoughtfully.

Yeah, well, that had been a good opportunity.

**_x-x-x_**

She'd come to Ratchet with all sorts of strange requests in the past, but _this _one just had to take the cherry on top of the ridiculously tall cake of her curiosity.

"Hey Ratchet."

"Maggie?" The scientist paused in… whatever he was doing with a large piece of metal the size of a bus and smiled down at his human friend, his hand chainsaw producing a soft buzz in the background. "How can I help you?"

"Um…" She raked her hand through her hair, suddenly feeling a lot more nervous than she'd been a minute ago. The idea of coming here and verbally harassing Ratchet had looked much better in her head than in real life. "If I may ask… could you tell me about… Cybertronian interfacing, and about what could be called… 'companionship' among your people?"

Ratchet's chainsaw came to an abrupt stop with a soft whining sound, his optics looking down at her with a carefully masked confusion. Maggie was seriously experiencing a déjà vu of _huge _proportions. Only a week ago Jazz had come to her with exactly the same question. All she was left to do now to recreate that morning completely was ask Ratchet to sleep with her. Duh.

"Perhaps, you should talk to Jazz about this, I think he would be glad to answer your questions," Ratchet mused aloud, his big head inclined to one side, as if in deep thought.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, not exactly following the medic's logic. "Jazz? Why him?"

"Because, he had been a… 'companion' before the war," came Ratchet's reply. "If I'm guessing the meaning of that English word right," he added.

All thoughts left Maggie's brain for a second as she stared at him, absolutely stupefied, feeling as if someone had just poured a bucket of icy cold water on her head.

"W- what?" she asked quietly.

"He used to be a companion, and a very good one. If somebody knows everything about interfacing, it's him."

Maggie fell completely silent, staring into space. When her brain assumed an ability to process information again, she almost wished it hadn't.

So basically, a Cybertronian "male prostitute" was after her, trying to get some? As harsh as the thought sounded, it was technically true… A horrible idea crossed her mind. She had to know.

"Uh… Did Jazz- with any of you…?"

"What? Oh, you mean if he interfaced with any of us?" Ratchet's tone was casual, but the words sounded so strange to her ears, alien even. "That's a negative, Maggie. Optimus is too preoccupied with his leadership duties, Bumblebee spends all of his free time guarding his human friends, and…" He paused for a second, as if deciding if he should say the next part. "Ironhide and I are bonded."

That one was a shot to the head. Maggie's reaction was universal and profound, like it always was when she heard something that stunned her mind. "Oh…" She was simply incapable of embracing such a flow of information that threatened to put her into a coma, no less.

Ratchet smiled. "I assume you would need more data on the issue?" he asked, but it sounded like a statement of fact…

…Maggie left Ratchet's med bay with a dumbstruck expression on her face and an X-rated Cybertronian CD in her purse for "further exploration."

She was _so _going to rot in hell for that.

**_x-x-x_**

Kitty met her with a questioning mewl, distracted from washing herself for only a second and a half – just enough for Maggie to smile reassuringly.

She wasn't particularly hungry, despite the full day of work. The girl grabbed an apple while setting her laptop to decode the record she'd made of Jazz and Sideswipe, and now stood in the middle of the room, realizing there was no walking around the next activity…

She considered making popcorn and getting a can of soda, but then decided it would be kind of disrespectful, even if nobody saw it. After all, one shouldn't consume food and drinks while observing something that "could be considered a form of art," right…?

Maggie sighed, twiddling with the CD in her hands. Truthfully, even taking her natural curiosity and thirst for new knowledge into consideration, she wasn't sure she wanted to see what was on that CD. Of course, she'd seen human porn, so it wasn't like she was shy or anything… Well, if she was honest with herself, she hadn't been impressed those several times she'd watched such kind of videos. She didn't see any meaningful content there; it was only an animalistic act of in-out, with some breast-groping and ass-slapping in between, with unnaturally sounding groans and high-pitched shouts of 'Ah! More! Yes!'…

Without doubt, the contents of this CD were going to be absolutely different, what with Jazz's explanations on the purpose and the meaning of the act of intimacy in the Cybertronian society. But she still hadn't formed her opinion on this "companionship," especially now that she knew that it had been Jazz's occupation…

Whether it was the pensive look on Maggie's face, or the natural cat curiosity, Kitty jumped to her mistress' lap the minute the girl took a seat in her computer chair and put the CD into the CD-ROM. Maggie would never admit it afterwards, but she held on to her cat for dear life, huge blue eyes fixed on the screen, afraid of what she might see and unable to look away.

Upon the start of the playback, Cybertronian symbols decorated the pitch-black video frame, and a strange tune resounded through the apartment – too loud for Maggie's liking, and she cringed, turning the volume down. The tune actually sounded like a tasteless, plastic soundtrack for an ancient game console, which immediately put some dirty innuendos into Maggie's mind, like "plug'n'play," or "joy stick"… No, she decided, better not go there.

She honestly wouldn't have been able to tell who of the two mechs was the girl and who was the boy if her life depended on it… Though, taking into consideration Ratchet's earlier statement about him and Ironhide being an issue, there was quite a chance that both of them were boys… or both girls… Better not go there as well.

The azure mech reached its hand and stroked the chest surface of its golden partner.

Maggie's palms became wet.

What did the Autobots think exactly when they discovered internet and the gigapiles of human porn there? Did they get their analogue of wet palms?

God, what was happening to her brain? Maggie felt the first sensations of an upcoming headache, and was distantly surprised that it hadn't come sooner, what with the astonishing way the day went.

She could hear soft mechanical sighs and gentle chirps coming from the couple on the screen. They were taking their time, having slow and sensual sex, hands caressing, mouths touching, bodies moving, electricity crackling... She kept imagining Jazz doing all those things with another Cybertronian, and frankly, the thought was definitely getting some kind of response from her. It was hot, and intriguing, and she was curious about what worked for him, what turned him on, what sounds he made, with whom he did it, under what circumstances, and… she decided that the idea of Jazz being intimate with someone was slightly… irritating. She wasn't jealous of course, it's just that she was monogamous, and wouldn't tolerate her male having affairs on the side.

Gosh, he wasn't even her male, by any stretch of imagination!

She was becoming angry, unable to understand herself.

And she now had another question: what did this mean to him? If it was such a normal (an 'easy' kind of normal) activity for the people of Cybertron, especially for those with such occupation, what did Jazz want with her? Did he even consider her special at all, or was he just trying to quench his curiosity and have some fun?

And then it dawned on her, while the robots on her monitor were selflessly going at it, engaged in the Cybertronian equivalent of sex, that she was actually sitting on her couch with a cat in her lap and a strange feeling of semi-arousal deep down in her stomach.

Jesus Christ.

Was she ready to go so far for whatever reason as lending robotic porn from Ratchet and watching it in her lazy hours? Was the entire issue with the silver Autobot influencing her this much, or was _she _interested this much?

She didn't know whether to be surprised, or amused, or freaked out.

She was suddenly caught between dreading the Sunday car wash and anticipating it…

…Maggie went to bed, exhausted from emotions and new information that had nearly toppled her small world. Despite her being tired, she just lay in her bed, trying to clean enough space in her head for a nice little dream of something positive and sweet, which proved to be a hard task. Her eyes were finally closing when her laptop gave a short, quiet signal, demanding her attention.

Maggie groaned. _Oh, great._ She forgot about that record of Jazz and Sideswipe she'd set on decoding. Now a dream would be a pointless chase for another hour… Well, at least she would see if this thing could possibly be useful to humans, or if she should stop wasting time on it and throw the schematics out the window.

The girl rolled in her bed, stretched her hand and lifted the lid of the laptop that was sitting on the nightstand, her sleepy gaze focusing on a too bright screen.

Those were only several lines of translated text – all she managed to catch on record, but it would be just enough for a field test. Later, she would work on connecting the decoder to a synthetically generated speech module, turning symbols into an audio stream. But that would be later.

Maggie's blue eyes ran over the familiar Latin letters. As soon as she started reading she forgot the scientific purpose of the record. She was reliving the scene she'd run into that morning, biting her lower lip…

_'Hey, watch your mouth, Sideswipe. Don't make me teach you some manners.'_

_'It's just a question, Jazz, whatever crawled up your tailpipe?'_

_'So long as you don't make a fuzz of it yourself, I'm cool. Now, aren't you needed someplace else?'_

_'Alright, alright, hold the recoil. I just want myself one, too, you know…'_

Was he referring to a kiss? Or a – Maggie cringed – a personal human to have fun with?

There was the last part left, and this was where she remembered Jazz had laughed before saying it. Her heart jerked slightly in her chest as she prepared herself for whatever he'd had to say.

_'This isn't some cheap stuff you can buy at a space market, man. It's special. You have to earn it.'_

**_End of Chapter 6_**

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**_A/N: _**_Your reviews are welcomed and held close to my heart :) If you don't want to register on this website, but still would like to ask me a question, then just type your e-mail into the specified field while leaving a review - nobody will see it but me, and I'll be able to give you a reply... Okay, be safe, and see you in the next chapter ;)_


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